


Eye For An Eye

by Biles_Bilinski



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Civil War (Marvel), Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Steve Rogers Angst, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biles_Bilinski/pseuds/Biles_Bilinski
Summary: “Oh my God.” Is all that Tony can muster, recoiling.Steve pants heavily as his eyes meet Tony's. He can’t place the look, the thoughts. His eyes are starting to become more unfocused, in quick and undecided intervals. His breaths are ragged and hitched, pale eyes never leaving Tony. Almost dismissing the very missing arm on his left side, streams of sticky, messy blood leaving trails from where he slammed him down on to the pavement.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ** Yeahh it's going to stay a one-shot. +Nonnie, You were right, it was too damn unbalanced. Lost the motivation to rewrite though to try and balance it out. Sorry for the disappointment. 
> 
> Man, I just don't have the capacity or motivation to write this out so yeah, given up on it. Stressing out over school, don't want to stress over a silly fic so I'm letting it go. Living up to expectations is the worse- so next time I'll just add the tags as I go so I don't give out them false pretences. Lesson learnt :')

He panted heavily beneath his armour, his vision red with the panel of ready weapons ready to use. Watching the bastard fall as he shot the door close on him didn’t come close to sating him. Tony’s eyes stung with heat and moisture, his blazing conflict of emotions directed towards Steve, but a certain overwhelming rage at the man who murdered his parents.

_His mother._

Firing a repulser beam at Barnes, the super soldier fell down the silo-like establishment, landing brutally on his metal arm with a resonating crack. He wasted no time diving towards him, arm raised to attack as he flew towards him, the super soldier still only recovering from the attack.

A blur of blue and red rushed past him, and he was suddenly thrown against the cement wall, something slamming into his side.

 _“Weapon functions are at disarray, sir. Dependancy ill-advised.”_ Friday’s annoyingly calm voice warned, but the AI’s voice was just a white noise to the flurry of frantic attacks that Steve Rogers was hailing upon him.

He shoved at Steve, using leverage from a repulse jet at his feet. Steve stumbled, instinctively up guarded as Tony made to make his own attacks, punching and blocking attacks. He gritted his teeth in annoyance whenever Steve just refused to take the hit, taken by surprised when Steve dodged, spun and clutched at his neck in a vice grip.

Both his hands clutching at Steve’s arms, he used a burst of power from the jet in his leg, causing Steve to topple backwards, his grip loosening ever so slightly. That’s all that Tony needed. Elbowing with all his might down into Steve’s stomach, he ripped himself from his grip, arm poised up ready to fire.

“He’s my _friend_.” Steve’s blue eyes pleaded, arms not even guarded.

Tony wasn’t moved, in fact, it almost fuelled his rage. His jaw tight and eyes fierce with rage. Even if Steve couldn’t see it.  _“So was I.”_

To their right they hear metal scraping and a shout for Steve’s attention, a disc of red and blue hurdling towards him

Tony didn’t miss a beat when turning to the source of noise, repulser beam ready to fire in the next secon-

And suddenly Steve is bolting for him, shield raised, with an alarming shout. He turns to defend himself, punching his gauntlet into his chest with renewed anger and annoyance, his other arm ready to attack at the soldier’s vulnerable state butthe repulser beam fires at that exact moment, but his anger still overwhelms him too much to realise what had happened. Not even when Steve’s shocked cry echoed through the cement walls and he returned his focus on the Winter Soldier, who’s shocked eyes and shrill cry wasn’t noted.

He uses what’s left of the rocket engine to thrust himself upwards, giving him leverage as he sends a hail attacks down on Barnes. Landing a couple of brutal attacks, watching the soldier stumble, firing him with the repulse beam to send him skidding against the concrete floor, back smashing against the wall. He comes at him, ready to fire once again. A metallic arm claws the wall in attempt to get back up. _He’s got him._

Something collides with his back, the clashing of metal making his teeth grit in annoyance. “Tony, _don’t_.” His voice pleaded pathetically. If he weren’t so enraged, he would’ve noticed how eerily raspy the voice was.

He tried ignoring him, holding his arm steady, ready to fire at Barnes when he’s suddenly tackled from behind. With a shout of frustration, he slams back at the body, his elbow making brutal contact with his head, forcing Steve to the ground all too easily, quickly whipping his body around to-

What the hell-.

.

 _Shit_.

 

 _Shit_. _Shit_. _Shit_.

“Oh my God.” Is all that Tony can muster audibly, recoiling back, sick rising up his throat.

Steve pants heavily as his eyes meet Tony. He can’t place the look, the thoughts.  They’re starting to become more unfocused, in quick and undecided intervals. His breaths are ragged and hitched, pale eyes never leaving Tony. Almost dismissing the very missing arm on his left side, streams of sticky, messy blood leaving trails from where he slammed on the pavement. There was also a glimmer of pink- white-

Tony stumbled when he realised what it was.

He felt sick. 

A blur of silver and black comes from his side, and he doesn’t even think to react. All his anger just left him- the bloody, gushing, dripping mess on Steve’s left shoulder topping everything.

“Steve, Steve? Oh my god.” He hears the Winter Soldier say in frantic breaths, breaking him out of his trance. Barnes knelt in front of the dazed soldier, attempting to carefully balance Steve upright, right metallic hand at Steve’s side, mindful of the-.

Steve remained silent, his shuddering breaths and unfocused eyes not a great indication that he was still conscious.

_He did that._

“We need to get him out of here!” The Winter soldier’s gruff, yet panicked voice said to him. Almost as if he didn’t try to kill him a few seconds prior.

_But he killed his mother._

“I don’t _care_ what you do to me!” Bucky yelled impatiently, “He’s going to bleed to death, serum or not!”

He nodded stiffly, not caring if he could see his agreement to the compromise.

Bucky lifted Steve up, arm around his waist. Steve nodded sluggishly, leaning his weight onto Bucky, feet stumbling to regain balance.

Bucky panted, eyes wandering around the Silo, swallowing as he eyed something. “Could you, could you get-.”

This snapped Tony out of his trance, eyes meeting where Barnes was referring to. He swallowed a lump in his throat, shivers going down his spine. “Y-yeah.” he said, slowly moving towards the-

“We may be able to reattach it.” Bucky said hoarsely. Tony picked it up gingerly, awkwardly holding it and cringing inwardly. He awfully noted the burn at the end of the stump- it was not a clean cut. The smell of burning flesh made him gag.

Bending down to pickup the discarded shield, Barnes slowly tugged Steve back onto his shoulder, who’s head lolled against him, getting a better grip as he started walk out the abandoned Silo, Tony in front.

“I’ll get the Quinjet ready.”

* * *

 

Tony had never seen so much blood come out of someone his entire life.

He’d step out of his suit, scrambling for the med-kit and gauze on board, barking out orders to Friday, ignoring the rumble of the ship as it took off, or how in the hell Barnes knew where the IV kit was.

He’d put the limb aside, beside the icepacks, and Barnes carelessly threw the shield to the side. He couldn’t help but wince at how loudly it clattered.

Blood pooled under Steve’s shoulder, gushing out of it.. Tony’s, warm, trembling hands and wrists were drenched in it. Steve eyes’s flickered, shaking sickly, faced away from Tony. Tony’s hand hovered over the fractured whites, losing himself  to Friday’s methodical voice because, _Jesus,_ the bone should not be sticking out like that, it should not look like that. Hell, he shouldn’t even see it to begin with-

His eyes flickered between Steve’s face and his hand steadying the remains of the arm in place.

Tony almost bit his lips off as he kept wrapping it with the gauze, over and over, stifling a sob whenever the blood kept leaking through every layer, or whenever he so much as _thought_ he jostled the fractured bone, the putrid smell was violating.

Barnes had already inserted the IV drip into his vein, now tending to blood that covered half of Steve’s face, repeatedly and gentling assuring Steve as he cleaned the blood.

“Cracked skull.” Barnes said absent-mindedly in Tony’s direction, devoid of any blame. _This was his fault._

**_This is your fault._ **

He shouldn’t have given in to his thoughts so soon- he must’ve shifted or pushed down on the bone because Steve finally snapped out of it.

And Tony knows he’ll never forget the way Steve screams, back making a perfect arch off the floor, he recoils instinctively, but Barnes does the opposite. Already keen to restrain him, levelling him down.

“Steve, Stevie- hey.” Bucky soothed, preventing his voice from sounding panicked. Steve couldn’t seem to hear him- or see him.

Over the guttural screams, Barnes turned to Tony, eyebrows arched upwards slightly- foreign on the notorious assassin.

“Is there nothing we can give him?!” Bucky demanded, Tony shook his head curtly, refusing to meet his eyes instead turning to Steve, who’s blue eyes are wet and bright with agony, now breathing heavily. 

Tony felt his knee dig into the floor, guilt sinking through him as the Super Soldier trembled, skin sheen with cold sweat, lips blue and his skin discoloured. He tried to ignore the way Bucky’s hand gripped Steve’s. He looked down, wanting to do the same-

But was instead left to feel the blood on his hands begin to cool and stick to his skin.


	2. Chapter 2

They couldn’t reattach it.

It didn’t surprise Tony, but he still couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach or the guilt that sloshed within him.

They were lucky enough at was that Steve was unconscious before the surgery took place.

He just _had_ to wake up just before they were sawing off the fragmented bone.

 

_“Hold him down!” The head surgeon yelled, Steve thrashed. on the operation table, his glassy eyes wide as he fought against Tony and Bucky’s weight._

_They’d managed to strap-shackle his wrists down, and his ankles, like some deranged animal trap. Tony leant his entire weight over Steve’s chest, sweat trickling down his face, refusing to meet his face._

_Tony panted harshly, caught in the haze, the room a flurry of industrial fluorescent whites and blues, Steve’s torso violently thrashing beneath him._

_Bucky was trying to calm Steve down, but Steve didn’t seem to hear it._

_“Hold him still!” The surgeon demanded once more, Bucky coming around to soothe the disorientated soldier and -Jesus, no- was that a fucking saw-_

_"Where's the anaesthetic?! Tony demanded, refusing to believe that they operate on him when he was still awake.  The surgeon shook his head hurriedly, hands busy unwrapping the gauze, "We've exceeded the legal dose for the average person, the serum keeps overriding-."_

_"He's a fucking super soldier! His body should be able to handle three times the legal dosage!" Tony argued; He didn't know the facts, and he knew it was reckless of him but he refused to let Steve undergo this while conscious._

_'We can't take the risk." The surgeon said with finality, the stick and glistening mess of shoulder finally unraveled._

_He bit his lip and looked away, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard Bucky managing to calm Steve, or perhaps he tired himself out._

_"Up his morphine dosage, at least." Tony reasoned desperately, his eyes glistening at anyone of the nurses. That finally got a response,  he nurse by his right complying hurriedly._

_Just as Steve was reduced to harsh wheezes, he made the mistake of looking back- when the surgeon started to saw through the bone-_

 

After the surgery, Tony had made a quick exit to the bathroom, where he purged his stomach out for a good half an hour.

He licked his lips, instinctively, the taste of bile still potent in his mouth.

Natasha was still with Steve, needing to see for herself what _he_ did to him. It didn’t matter if the surgeons insisted she’d wait with Tony- she had her ways.

 

_“Tony, what happened? What did you do?”  Natasha all but ruthlessly fired questions as she saw him standing aimlessly in the hallway, hands and wrists caked in blood._

_Tony opened his mouth, bottom lip trembling as he couldn’t think of anything to say- and even if he did he didn’t think he could get them past his hoarse throat._

_“He’s going to make it.” He echoes the head-surgeon, but the words sound bitter and redundant in his mouth. And Natasha catches it._

_She ignores Barnes, jaw clenching as she turns in the direction Steve was wheeled in._

 

“Stark.”

The low tone of the voice jerks him from his thoughts. He looks up and James Buchanan Barnes is staring back at him.

He tries to trigger the unquenched anger that he knows should be crackling inside him, but he finds that he can’t. He’s exhausted. Burnt out.

“Barnes.” He returns numbly, unease still settling in when Barnes sits in the plastic chair beside him. Tony doesn’t look at him, but he knows those icy blue eyes are boring into the side of his face.

“I take full responsibility for what happened.”

Tony still doesn’t look. He knows Barnes was weighing his words, mouth opening and closing, a frown etched on his face, seeing his eyebrows scrunch up from his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, well, you _shouldn’t_.” Tony bit out, eyes darting down at his grimy stained hands.

He knows Barnes catches it.

Tony shook his head, he can't do this right now.

He could practically hear Barnes weigh his words, as if the slightest misstep would detonate him.   

“Steve’s… strong. He’ll bounce right back, he didn’t let this sort of stuff push him down before.” Tony bit his bottom lip, leaning back into the plastic chair.

Tony scoffed hoarsely, “But it’s not the _same_.” He says almost so quietly he almost thinks Barnes doesn’t hear it.

He drags his hand over his face, sniffling.  He smiles bitterly, staring at a thought before bringing his gaze back to his twitchy hands.

“I'm really _so_ self-centred that I’m thinking of _myself_.” He scrunches his lips, shaking his head incredulously, “What this _all_ means for me, what I’m going to do with myself, what _can_ I do for everyone else.” He takes a shuddering breath.

“Stark, you can’t help Steve or _anyone_ if you can’t help yourself.” Barnes returned, sincerely.

Tony almost wants to laugh at the circumstances. His parent killer giving _him_ life advice. How fucked was his life?

And there was a spark. He could tell Barnes felt it.

“I’m sorry.”

He could see the Soldier purse his lips, empathetic, leaving as briskly as he came.

When he knew he was alone, he buried his face in his hands.

The first sob that ruptured was the only relief he could find.

* * *

“I hate you.”

His shoulder and the stump is wrapped in thick, clean new gauze. An IV’s attached, EKG beeping every other second, a calming rhythm to the beat of Steve’s heart.

Steve looks peaceful, eyelids still as laid on the hospital bed, body layered over with a white sheet, arm placed over his side. He’s got a bit more colour to his cheeks now, but was still pale.

“My God, you’re like an angel.” Tony said, sarcasm bitter on his tongue, elbows balanced on his knees, hands crossed over one another as he watched Steve anxiously, and the rise and fall of his chest.

“That’s probably how you do it, right?” Tony raised a brow at the unresponsive soldier, “Why you’re always on the right side, why you’re always the good guy- even if you are branded as an international fugitive.”

Tony scoffed, “God help us if Captain America’s a criminal, something must’ve gone wrong.” He shifts his focus to his fingers. He smirks bitterly and puts them down, shaking his head as he looks back at Steve’s still face.

“How do you do it? And don’t say it’s because it’s what felt right because guess what-.” Tony jabs at his chest, “This decision _felt_ right. The Accords felt necessary and right, to _me_.”

He shrugs, “Yet it didn’t to you, and I don’t get it- I don’t _get it._ ”

“People were _dying_. People kept dying because of us- because of _me_.” Tony shook his head, “After Ultron, I knew I couldn’t make a mistake like that again but somehow…” Tony looks at Steve’s bandaged arm and swallowed harshly.

“I don’t know how to do the right thing anymore,” Tony says, mouth dry, “I’m so fucking _lost_.”

He sags back into the chair, hand covering his eyes, taking shuddering breaths at his revelation. Steve is still unresponsive. 

"How did we get here?" He murmured, hand dragged through his hair, eventually dragging it back down to hide his face, wavering breaths muffled. 

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to regain his composure, because it’s not until he hears Steve groan that he looks up.

The EKG monitor seems to beep louder.                                               

A steady quarter-beat beat to Tony’s rapidly pounding one.

Tony braces himself as Steve’s eyes wander around the room, half-lidded and dilated,  the blues finally settling on Tony.

He can’t read him.

His mouth dries. 

He clears his throat, wiping his eyes with the back of sleeve before getting up, grabbing the cup of water on the table- the typical avoiding-the-problem-head-on Stark fashion and offered it out to Steve. Not that it worked.

Steve tries reaching out for it- but that’s when it really hits him.

EKG started beeping loudly as Steve’s pulse quickens and panic floods in-

“Steve, I’m sorry- I’m sorry, Steve.” Tony starts spluttering- this softens something in Steve’s expression when they make eye contact and he gradually relaxes.

Steve bit down on his bottom lip, eyes closing, regaining his composure. “It’s okay just- Just give me a minute.”

Anticipation rolls in uneasily.

_This definitely was not fucking okay._

“Could you,” Steve starts, head tilting to his right. “-My other side-and-.” but Tony just nods, understanding quickly.

Steve’s lips eventually meet the straw, Tony holding it for him, making a noise after finally getting the much-needed moisture. Tony sets the cup to the side.

When Tony looks back at Steve, those blues were different.

“Tony.”

Tonys jaw tenses, eyes darting away. Steve swallows painfully, nodding in acceptance. 

So he scoffs, and it sounds just as pained 

_"Tony, what have we done?"_

Tony's face breaks a little, scrunching up briefly, but he risks a glance back up at Steve anyways.

Steve tilts his head to the right, briefly smiling but it’s so damn _fragile_ that it breaks the moment it appears.

“I should’ve told you- _I should’ve told you.”_

Tony turns away for a second, clearing the itch in his throat, pulling up a chair by his bedside. Steve breathes in harshly, his throat ablaze.

_"I'm sorry."_

Their eyes meet again, Tony sat beside him.

Steve’s fingers move upwards, and Tony sets his right hand on top of them, fingers tightening around them, but doesn’t say anything.

The silence is comforting and a necessary halt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, fuck it.


End file.
